Best Skip Poems
Love
knows
no age
or beauty
Love
knows
no rich
or poor
Love
knows
no religion
or race
Love
knows
no straight
or gay
Love
knows
no boundary
or reason
Love
knows
no distance
or time
Love
knows only
the rapid beating
of a giving heart sublime
True stories are often the saddest, so go to another poem if you
are afraid of this one.
Seventy-five years ago a Mommy died leaving a boy of two
with her husband, a farmer.
The husband was a father, but no Daddy;
he plopped the motherless child in an orphanage.
But refused to relinquish his rights, even though several
families wanted to adopt the toddler.
The toddler grew up in the orphanage, and reached the
sad age of fourteen, one of the few to do this.
When he was fourteen, his father came by and picked him
up to go home which was his right.
He did not recognize his father who was harsh,
and as you can see, not a fair or nice man.
With a father like this is it any wonder the child
had difficulty at school and got into many a fight?
As soon as he was able, the toddler-orphanage-lost-fighter-child
joined the service and left the state.
The service was terrific for him, he knew how to share a room,
and live in a bunk bed, second classed.
The man who told me this story explained
that this lost child was his father, but he never spoke of this.
Not wanting his family to know what a horrible life he had as a child.
His children who adored him learned of it after he passed.
He was the kindest, most gentle father in the world,
my friend told me. He always hugged us.
He could not tell us that he loved us enough.
He said it so many times it embarrassed my mother,
But it pleased my older sister, and me, and of course,
my one and only brother, Big Maddy.
The man who told me this story had tears in his eyes
for that little boy, his own sweet neglected Daddy.
Tickety Tockety!
Jason the Clockwatcher
Has eight more hours until
He can go play.
Temporal oddities!
Unsynchronology!
Mentally done but just
Starting the day.
Why I Plan to Skip My 55th Class Reunion
By Elton Camp
We were “The Ones Who Really Rate”
That is to say, “Senior Class of 58”
At the 50th reunion, I got a bad surprise
I found that I couldn’t believe my eyes
It made me gasp and then almost choke
To see all those ugly looking old folk
Some too senile even to recognize me
Five years later, I’ll just let them be
I’m glad to say I’ve remained the same
The way most of them aged is a shame
Another reunion, why even try?
I think I’ll just pass this one by
I love thee
I cherish thee
I feel you are forever meant for me
When you are sighted
I am filled with so much joy
I coo with ecstasy
And so want to caress thee
If ever I pass you by
I am with sorrow overcome
For I know I have lost
An opportunity to rifle through thee
Rummaging through you
I find gifts that display your bounty
I am ever thankful you love me
Your deep bowels are no hindrance
For I delve in and I search
With such expectant glee
And I always find the gifts
You kept safe for me
You are my dearest love
My Skippy
My metal box that so enriches me
I coo with pleasure at
All you do to please me
I can never exist without you
I want you constantly
Skip you make me so enviably happy
No one can accept that
That I truly love thee
When I scavenge from you skippee
I thank you for your love that indulges me
I feel you favour me so wantonly
One day I know you will make me very wealthy
Dear beloved Skippy
You and only you doth
I think believe in me
You give so freely and expect nothing from me
You are my one and only
best friend, children, first love, games, heartbreak, life, moving on,
SKIP TO MY LOU! ©
Harmonizing rhythms
Rotations synchronize to
Skip to My Lou
My Darlings
Couples take up ends
Two turn rope 'required'
Like me with you
Two ends
One jumper
Take turns
Work ends timing.
Double Dutch
Double quick
Pavement recounts
All the licks!
Skipped times
Challenges anew
Missteps loose turns
Rope Splits
Stop skip
Mid crisis
Ends must be reunited
Another ‘Skip To My Lou’
Game starts
More to chance
With knotted ends
'Jointed' again
Start the count-down
One, two, three,four,
You missed stepped---
And loose
My turn!
Time permits limited patience & heartbeats
being understanding & holding on
Not hearing from you skips another heartbeat.
It really looks like success is at hand
Sleep apnea is finally at bay
Guess I'm good for another few years
Hallelujah! Oh happy day
I'm waking up singing a happy refrain
Have an extra skip in my step
Thought I was done for, the jig was up
For my parting I started to prep
A new lease on life that's what they say
Feels like I'm ready to rumble
The way it was going, I really imagined
My life was starting to crumble
Modern research has found a treatment
A great new solution is at hand
A CPAP machine to enhance my breathing
Must say my future looks grand
Physically I've always been in tiptop shape
Except for some extra pounds
I don't expect miracles but so far so good
Like the way it's starting to sound
© Jack Ellison 2015
CPAP – Continuous Positive Airway Pressure
Into deep woods I strolled one day, with my twin sister,
For if I had gone alone, I surely would have missed her.
We were looking for wild strawberries, but we got lost,
Under the warm sun shining, as breezes blew very soft.
We wandered for a while, then we sat to rest by a lake,
And after eating strawberries, we saw a talking snake.
He had seen us walking, and he took us partway home,
Then a pink bunny guided us, so we did not roam alone.
Red and pink flowers danced, to the whims of wild wind,
And they giggled and talked to us, as we turned a bend.
Fluffy clouds waved from above, as green froggy hopped,
Doing a lily pad skip, and pointing the way as he stopped.
Finally, a big gold and blue bird, led us out of the woods.
We said goodbye then, and dashed home in happy moods.
We got baskets full of strawberries. We'd had a lovely day,
In the enchanted woods, where animals talk, laugh and play!
Written on 4/2/2023
For: Write a Sweet Fairytale For Children
Poetry Contest
Sponsor: BJ Legros Kelley
Sweet morning sunshine --
Damn you how I
despise this labor
that lies ahead.
The cousin of Grizzly Adams’
patiently waits with the
ancient white pickup truck
he ran me over with while I slept.
Off we go with the toolbox
dancing in the bed and it’s a band
of pots and pans, the opening act for
our weapons of mass construction.
Murph says he’s a team player,
although I don’t recall a sport
consisted of getting wasted
and having shameful sex.
He grumbles and curses about
the day ahead hung-over with
his perfume from the distillery and
gum he must’ve marinated in an ashtray.
We better do some stretching
before the circus begins—
watch me as I carry an elephant
up the twenty year old ladder.
From two stories above I witness
the war forming between
old rusty nails and the tiny,
soft green blades that stand no match.
The ground has become a grave
of tetanus but the old umbrellas
we toss down from the house
cover up the battlefield.
(To Be Continued)...
Ella was an old woman
Who wanted to learn to skip
She held tightly to the rope
So she would not lose her grip
Tossing the rope over her head
That's when everything went awry
Her face went extremely red
As the rope hit her in the eye
This did not defeat her
She was determined to win
Until the rope lassoed a vase
That made an enormous din
Ella put the rope on the ground
So she could pick up the mess
This skipping lark was tiring her
This she must confess
Ella tried again
She wanted badly to skip
It would help her to lose weight
Feel healthier and fit
She was a little overweight
And wanted to be trim
So she would look her best
For a holiday with husband, Jim
Ella picked up the rope
She was beginning to despise
Weary and exhausted
With red and watery eyes
She was growing very pale
Her persistence brought no gain
Gripping the dreaded skipping rope
She persevered again
Her legs got twisted in the rope
It burst a varicose vein
The pain was excruciating
It nearly drove Ella insane
Then she overbalanced
And split her swollen lips
Hit her head as she fell down
And fractured both her hips
The last that was heard of Ella
She was in a Hospital bed
With not thought of skipping
Happy knitting instead!
Looking at my computer screen for
‘Unfinished writings’
I found this
“Added customer . . .
Press backspace to remove”
And I envisioned a harried store clerk
Or a call-in service person
Smiling and pressing a key
And the irritating customer
Disappears
----------------------------------------------
And on the same ‘page’:
“Skip to content”
Which could refer to meeting a new person
All bright and shiny
And full of promises
And do I want to take the trouble
To befriend them?
Or, does it refer to my search
Through religious and philosophical tenets
Looking for happiness
Instead of following all the offered paths,
I could just skip to content (accent on second syllable)
OR skip to content (accent on first)
Just look for compassion
(For All life)
And below that was “Using Gmail with screen readers”
Does this mean that Uncle Sam is standing behind me
And reading all my email?
I’d turn around and say, “Get a life!” And NOT MINE
Or does it refer to blind writers?
I guess it Could
I have a friend who is blind, and uses his computer
which speaks
I used to get that on my computer
Until my IT man cleared it off -
You know that wavery tin voice:
“You are moving the mouse to . . .” what ever!
I really can’t remember the exact words;
Just that I had to hit a button to shut it up
Every time I started the machine
And it irritated the heck out of me
But I guess that’s another story
So I think I’ll stop here and relax
Skip to content
Britainers have no idea of distance
Ontario to B.C. is just a hop, skip and a dance
About 3,000 miles
London to Aberdeen 450 miles
Holy crap, no chance to change your underpants
If you have a weak stomach skip this one
Last chance.
Squeamish around gooey smelly stuff?
Second last chance.
Pass on by honey, and quickly.
My dog threw up today.
not once. Six times.
Each pile a little bigger than the one before it.
It was a coral color, and smelly. Gooey. Piles of it.
I got closer and saw pieces of partially eaten hot dogs.
Chunks of steak.
Part of a t-bone.
I gagged when I had finished cleaning these six piles.
Oh, yes, my husband said. I saw that on the porch.
He claims he only saw one pile of throw-up.
Not possible.
I am no longer speaking to this man.
Skip and Jack would cut no slack.
When someone crossed theyr'e wires.
They didn't hold back their tough attack.
They'd proceed to slash your tires.
One day when they both fell asleep.
Somebody stole their dreams.
Now when they pray for souls to keep.
They see God in their beams.